She Wore Purple
by ReillyJade
Summary: Kristoff plowed through the stormy woods on foot against the wind. The snow was brutal against the exposed skin near his eyes and he could feel small cuts being made from the hail, but he kept going. He had to. He'd said a week. Anna was waiting, so he marched on.


___DISCLAIMER:_ All of the places and characters in this story belong to Disney and are inspired by the work of Hans Christian Andersen. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain_.___

Rated M for sexual content and reference to a sensitive topic.

* * *

**_She Wore Purple_**

_"It's only for a week. Just a week."  
__"But I'm scared."  
__"There's no reason to be, love. I've done this plenty of times before."  
__"I know. I just have a bad feeling about this one. It's been so long since your last trip."  
__"I'll be fine, Anna. I know what I'm doing."  
__"You'll come back to me?"  
__"I promise."  
__"And you'll be thinking about me when you're out there?"  
__"Always."  
__"I love you."  
__"I love you, too."_

* * *

The storm struck without warning, pummeling the mountains and icy lakes in a swirling fury of snow, hail, and fierce winds. There had been no time to seek shelter from winter's wrath, and Kristoff found himself trapped in a cluster of evergreens on his way home, eyes narrowed against the gusts snaking their way through the trees. The sled was useless; Sven's vision was just as obstructed as his own, and the sled was awkward enough when it came to tight turns in clear weather, never mind a raging blizzard. Ergo, Kristoff plowed through the stormy woods on foot against the wind. The snow was brutal against the exposed skin near his eyes and he could feel small cuts being made from the hail, but he kept going. He had to. He'd said a week.

Anna was waiting, so he marched on.

When the storm eventually simmered down and they were able to use the sled again, they had an accident: the slender runners spun out on the slippery slope. Kristoff, along with all the ice he'd collected during his trip, was ejected, and his leg struck a large boulder as he landed, slicing open his thigh. He wrapped up the large wound with his sash, the blood barely noticeable against the maroon threading, while Sven helplessly panicked nearby. Kristoff was well aware it would have been prudent to allow his leg a chance to heal, but the storm had made them late enough as it was. They were two days behind at the very least, and he couldn't scare Anna in such a way. He grimaced as he stood, but fought through the pain to reattach Sven to the sled and get back into his seat.

Anna would be worried, so he kept going.

They stopped to eat about halfway down the mountain, and all was fine until Kristoff hit some ice. He lost his footing and slid down, down, _down_ until he reached one of the many lakes, crashing through the ice that had been softened by the slight thaw of February. The water hit him like a thousand frigid knives, sharp and painfully cruel, but his agonizing cry was silenced by the depths of the lake. His clothes were too heavy and his leg too sore... he couldn't kick against the dense liquid surrounding him. The hole his body had created in the ice grew smaller, the light pouring through it grew dimmer, the pain in his chest grew tighter...

It was the end.

And he thought of Anna.

He thought of the first time he saw her in that godforsaken trading post, dressed in emerald and so unsure of the world. He thought of how pretty she looked the first time he twirled her around the royal ballroom, how the magenta fabric swirled around her body, how rosy her cheeks were as she smiled up at him. He thought of the way her sapphire dress clung to her body in the rain on that stormy evening he'd asked for her hand. He thought of how angelic she'd looked the morning she walked toward him in the purest white, how the silky fabric had felt so soft against his calloused hands when he'd pulled her in for that cementing kiss. He thought of her in pink, in red, in nothing at all, and despite the gelidness, he felt delightfully warm, because he'd had Anna.

He'd miss her. Oh, how he would miss her. That laugh, that way her eyebrows crinkled whenever she was mad at him, that delicate swing of her hips, that tender embrace, that decadent kiss...

And he thought of her waiting, _worrying_.

He'd kept part of his promise, for she had never once left his thoughts, but he'd sworn a safe return, pledged he'd come back to her, and he wasn't even trying. He was just allowing himself to sink, to die, and for what? This wasn't two years ago when he had nothing to live for. This was _now_, and now was Anna – his friend, his family, his love – and he was the same to her. He couldn't let her down. So he ignored the pain and the astonishing weight of the water, and kicked.

Anna loved him, so he swam. With all of his strength, he swam.

And because of her, he made it.

Sven was waiting for him at the surface; the reindeer clamped his teeth on a loose part of Kristoff's sleeve and pulled him out of the icy pool that had nearly been his grave. Kristoff was violently trembling from the cold and he could nearly hear his muscles and bones crying in agony, but he stood the second he was out of the water.

"Home," he choked out to Sven as he deliriously stumbled toward the sled. "Home. Anna..."

As he tumbled into his seat, Kristoff quickly realized the two words meant exactly the same thing.

Fortunately for him, Sven understood. Kristoff's shaky, gloved hands fumbled with the reigns a bit, but the second he was attached, the trusty reindeer sped off in the direction of Arendelle, toward the palace, toward _Anna_. They rode for the remainder of the day, stopping only once for a brief rest, and when the rooftops of Arendelle came into view, the velvety night sky was alive with the northern lights and glimmering stars.

"Anna," he weakly breathed.

When they arrived at the palace, Kristoff jumped out of the sled before Sven even came to a complete stop. Pain shot up his injured leg as he landed, but he didn't care. He ran as fast as he could to the gates. They weren't opening fast enough, so he banged on them until he was able to get through.

"Sir, you've returned!" one of the guards exclaimed as he bolted through. "We're so-"

But Kristoff was too busy running to Anna to give a damn about what the guard had to say. He ignored a fretting Gerda and inquisitive Kai as he ran through the corridors, and even blew right past Elsa without so much as a simple greeting. They didn't matter. None of them did.

It felt like an eternity and a half had gone by when Kristoff finally reached the closed door to his and Anna's bedchamber. With the little strength he had left, he yanked it open.

"Anna," he murmured. "Anna..."

She was perched upon her favorite window seat, gazing out at the view of the wilted, snow-covered rose garden below. Anna turned to his voice, eyes wide with shock and glossed with unshed tears. Even in the near-darkness, he could see the stained, blotchy evidence of her melancholy, her _fear. _Anna stood and walked toward him slowly. The dress she wore was so dark that her figure was merely a silhouette against the moonlight as she glided across the room, and Kristoff wasn't able to tell that it was a deep, eggplant purple until she was standing directly in front of him.

They stared at one another for a while. The crinkle in Anna's brow told Kristoff she was holding back tears as she stared at him in obvious concern, disbelief, and love. He felt her shaking hand touch his face, softly brushing against the hardened cuts and scrapes.

"Kr-Kristoff..."

"Anna..."

"You're hurt," she whimpered. "You need to see a doctor."

She grabbed his hand and made to pull him back out into the corridor, but he halted her motions by placing a firm, yet gentle hold on her upper arms.

"No," he urged, voice trembling. "No. I just want to be with you."

"But Kristoff-"

"_No_," he firmly repeated. "Just you. Please... _please_..."

He didn't realize until he'd pulled her into a tight embrace that he'd begun crying, and it only got worse as he buried his face into her hair. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he inhaled her familiar scent of vanilla and honey, the sweetest aroma in the world, and one he'd thought he would never smell again. Her breath tickled his neck as she leaned against him, and he felt her arms lock themselves around his waist. Her body began to quake against his own as she, too, broke down.

"Kristoff, I was so scared," she sobbed. "I thought you were dead..."

"I'm alive," he wept. "Anna, I'm _so_ alive."

It was the truth. He was worn down, injured, and beyond exhausted, but in that moment, in her arms, he was more alive than ever before.

It was times like this which reminded him that love, while miraculous and beautiful, was such a bizarre thing. Anna was a person, just like him, just like _millions_ of others. She was flesh, blood, bone, and muscle, but for some reason he'd never be able to explain, it was _her_ heart that had grasped his, _her_ soul that touched his own. All he'd had to do was think of this one person to give him the will to survive.

_How?_ How could this one trembling, petite body have such an effect on his bigger, bloodied one? He could fathom nothing to rationalize it, so he attributed it to something divine. When he was a child, his mother told him that everyone was an angel in their own right. He'd never believed it until now, because perhaps Anna was his. This beautiful woman wrapped in both amethyst velvet and his arms just _had _to be his angel, protecting him, saving him, loving him.

"Anna, I love you," Kristoff bawled into her hair. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was all he could say; he hoped she knew it was so much more than that.

"Kristoff, I love you, too," she mewled. "I thought I lost you forever."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

"No, please, don't be sorry. I'm just... I'm just so happy you're home!"

"I didn't mean to scare you. There... there was an accident, and... and the storm-"

"I know, I know," she hushed through her wails. "It doesn't matter. You're home now. You're safe. You're safe..."

"Anna-"

"Shh."

Anna's brought her trembling lips to his equally shaking ones. They kissed through their tears while holding one another tighter than Kristoff had ever thought possible. He wouldn't let her retreat even for a second; he held her as close to his body as he could, determined to never let go.

They eventually tumbled onto their bed, too lost in each other to care that Kristoff's grime from the lengthy trip was still matted in his hair and soaked in his skin. He was certain he smelled horrendous, but it didn't stop Anna from burying her face into the crook of his neck to cry some more. She kissed every cut and bruise on his face with a tenderness not matched by her embrace, which by contrast was hungry and rapturous.

By the time they briefly broke apart, Kristoff had somehow pulled himself up into a seated position while Anna straddled his lap, careful not to place any unwanted pressure on his wounded leg. She gingerly ran her fingers through his grungy hair, combing through the tangles that had resulted from the wind. He tenderly rubbed the inward curves of her waist. Watery blue met tearful brown, and they both silently agreed and understood.

_Closer._

Damp beads rolled down Anna's flushed cheeks as she slowly unfastened the buttons of his outerwear. Meanwhile, he wrapped his hands around her back, loosened the ribbons of her dress, and felt the plum silk unravel through his sore, calloused fingers. After temporarily climbing off him, she carefully removed his trousers and drawers, gasping when the wound on his leg was revealed. It was scabbed over and dry, but still looked vicious and was decorated with a few maroon bruises.

"Kristoff-"

"Tomorrow," he shakily countered, knowing full well what she was going to suggest. "Not now. I only need you."

For a moment, she looked as if she might insist on getting it taken care of, but she agreed by offering him a subtle nodded and gentle touch on his hand. Anna then stood beside the bed, not daring to break eye contact as she undressed. She pushed the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders, and the loosened garment easily slid down her frame, pooling around her feet in a violet heap. Her petticoats, corset, and chemise shortly followed.

When Anna was back upon Kristoff's lap, they shared some more sensual caresses and he relished in how it felt to have her skin pressed against his. Warm and smooth, she was a far better medicine than any doctor could have given him. The simple feel of her body was so delightfully soothing that he didn't even remember the pain he was in.

They moaned in unison when Anna adjusted her hips to join their bodies. Her back arched as he slipped inside her, face twisted in rapture as she slowly began to roll against him. Kristoff leaned his face toward her, leaving a trail of tender kisses in the valley of her breasts before gently suckling at each nipple. He continued upward to caress her neck and eventually arrive at her lips. Anna gratefully accepted his kiss, opening her mouth to his. Her hips slowed considerably as their tongues danced, but Kristoff didn't mind one bit; he wouldn't have minded if it lasted until sunrise.

She resumed her steady pace once their lips broke apart. Kristoff place his hands on her waist and watched her move. The moonlight pouring into the room through the stained glass illuminated her face and torso with a lilac glow, and in that moment, she looked truly ethereal. He was certain he really _did_ have an angel in his lap. Kristoff moved one hand to where her body met his, dipping two fingers against her folded pink flesh and reveling in the way her breathing quickened.

With all the strength he could muster, he stopped her a few minutes later by gently lifting her and placing her down on the bed beside him. Placing all of his weight on his good leg, he settled beneath her parted thighs.

"Kristoff... your wound..." she murmured.

"I'll be okay, I promise."

Kristoff gripped her hips and elevated them before slowly pushing into her as deeply as their bodies would allow. He withdrew almost all the way at an agonizingly slow pace before repeating the motion again and again. They both gasped with each thrust, each completion; each time he filled her entirely, they were one.

He leaned forward as he continuously buried himself in her, covering her body with his own. He wanted to kiss her again, feel her skin against his again, _hold her_ again. He kept one arm on her hip while slipping the other behind her back to pull her chest against his own. Her lips were right beside his, but instead of kissing her, he whispered.

"I love you," he choked out. He could feel the tears coming again, but he didn't care.

"Kristoff... I love you _so much_."

"And I missed you. Anna... I thought about you every second. _Every second._"

Anna began to cry, too, and she placed her hands on either side of his face. She deeply kissed him, long and slow.

"Welcome home," she whispered.

He knew what she meant. She didn't mean Arendelle, the castle, or even their bedchamber. She meant herself. She meant _them._ She was his home, and he was hers.

They caressed and cried as their lovemaking went on for much longer than it typically did. As far as Kristoff was concerned, he'd have been perfectly content if it never stopped; a life spent in and with Anna would surely be heaven on earth.

Nonetheless, he didn't complain when they each reached their end, as it had been far too long since he'd felt such pleasure. He held back until Anna came undone. Consumed with the notion of being with Kristoff again, her release was much more tame and quiet than usual, but he could tell it was just as powerful and satisfying as the rest. He suspected this to be true because his own bliss was so much different from the others. It had always felt good, but this one... this was special. He, too, moaned quietly as the intense, euphoric waves crashed over him.

Kristoff snuggled beside her afterward, pulling her heated body against his own. He tenderly rubbed her shoulder and upper arm while she fingered the delicate hair on his chest. They laid together in silence for several minutes, savoring their reunion and the knowledge that they were once again together, _safe_.

"Kristoff," Anna whispered after a while, "your injuries... they need to be tended to."

"Tomorrow," he reminded her softly. "All I want right now is to be with you."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "This is far more important."

He felt Anna smile against his chest as he pulled the lavender duvet up to their shoulders, tucking them both in for the remainder of the night. Tomorrow was another day. He could worry about his leg, cuts, and dirty hair then. All that mattered right then was Anna.

She fell asleep first, and Kristoff took the time to gaze down at her perfectly placid face. He brushed the pad of his thumb beneath her eye against her freckled flesh. He smiled slightly, remembering how he felt upon seeing that face when he stumbled through the doors earlier – the face and body he thought he'd never see again. He thought of the relief, _the love_, he'd felt. But more than anything, he thought of how blessed he was to have the woman nestled against him.

It was these thoughts that sung him to a much-needed slumber, and his dreams were quiet, tranquil, and filled with a miraculous, purple-clad Anna.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If you read my other Kristanna stories (thank you if you do!), I'm sure you've noticed they're all connected. That said, here's a fun fact about this one: this is the night Anna gets pregnant with their first child. It takes place roughly a month before 'Lazy Sunday.' :)

Thanks for reading!


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